The Special Two
by collegesweetheart
Summary: One-shot post "Embracable You". I know there are lots of these, but this one is islightlyi different.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Crossing Jordan or anything to do with it. I don't own Missy Higgins either… funnily enough I don't think you can legally own a person… or the lyrics/song 'The Special Two'. Don't own the title either.

A/N: this is just a short one-shot I wrote after seeing "Embraceable You", which I thought ended a bit abruptly. I don't normally include lyrics in my fics, but I was listening to the radio, this song came on and it was perfect. For those of you who don't know it, the (female) singer has a bit of a husky Norah Jones style voice, and it is played on piano. It's kinda slow and sad. But the best way for you to find out? Listen to it!

-/-/-/-/-

_I've hardly been outside my room in days,_

'_Cause I don't feel that I deserve the sunshine's rays._

_The darkness helped until the whisky wore away,_

_And it's then I realized that conscience never fades._

Jordan Cavanaugh let herself into her apartment and pulled the keys from the fire engine red door before flicking on the light. Shutting the door behind her, she walked over to her kitchen and set the brown paper bag she had brought with her on the bench. She sighed and flicked her hair out of her eyes with a slight wrist movement.

_When you're young you have this image of your life:_

_That you'd be scrupulous and one day even make a wife._

_And you make boundaries you'd never dream to cross,_

_And if you happen to you'll wake completely lost._

Shrugging out of her jacket, she walked past her bed and dropped it on the end. The rest of her clothes followed as she made her way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Standing under the hot streams, she dropped her head back and let them hit her face and soak her body. _I_, Jordan decided,_ am a fool._

_But I will fight for you, be sure that I will fight,_

_Until we are the special two, once again._

-/-/-/-/-

_And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,_

_Our hands will not be taught to hold another's,_

_When we are the special two._

_And we could only see each other, we'd bleed together,_

_These arms will not be taught to need another,_

'_Cause we were the special two._

-/-/-/-/-

_I remember someone old once said to me,_

"_the lies will lock you up, with truth the only key"_

_But I was comfortable and warm within my shell,_

_And couldn't see this place could soon become my hell!_

Woody lay, fully clothed, on his bed. His legs hung off the edge and his eyes stared at the ceiling. He found himself blinking back tears. They were burning the back of his eyelids like red-hot pokers. He sighed and closed his eyes in a futile attempt at sleeping. It was useless. He sat up and moved to his kitchen where he opened a cupboard and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.

_So is it better to tell and hurt, or lie to save their face?_

_Well I guess the answer is don't do it in the first place._

_I know I'm not deserving of your trust from you right now_

_But if by chance you change your mind, you know I will not let you down…_

Getting out a tumbler as well, he was about to go back into his bedroom when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the suit jacket he had thrown over the arm of the lounge and picked it up. He removed a small jewelry box from the pocket and slumped onto his lounge, setting it on the table in front of him. After pouring himself some whiskey, he opened the box and stared at the delicate silver and diamond knotted ring. _I,_ Woody decided, _am a fool._

'_Cause we were the special two,_

_And will be again…_

-/-/-/-/-

_And we will only need each other, we'll breathe together,_

_Our hands will not be taught, to hold another's,_

_When we're the special two._

_And we could only see each other, we'll bleed together,_

_These arms will not be taught to need another… _

-/-/-/-/-

Jordan sat in a pair of baggy grey track pants and a black t-shirt, staring at the brown paper bag. After a moment, she stood up and retrieved it from the kitchen, and returned to the couch. Curling her feet up under her, she seemed small, tucked into one corner of the couch as she removed a six-pack and a bottle of bourbon. She was going to regret this tomorrow, but right now, it was just what she needed. The events of the day started to register and a tear slowly, faintly, trickled down one cheek. Leaning over, she picked up a beer, cracked it open, and took a long pull. '_We're better off as friends'… but how?_ Woody's scathing comment reverberated in her head.

_I step outside my mind's eye for a minute, _

_And I look over me like a doctor looking for disease, _

_Or something that could ease the pain._

_But nothing cures the hurt you, you bring on by yourself,_

_Just remembering, just remembering how we were…_

He was on his fifth whisky. A third of the bottle. It had been a long time since he had drunk this heavily. The room was spinning oh-so-slightly, but the ring, that damned ring, was perfectly still. The calm in the middle of the storm. _'We're better off as friends'._ This time, he had beaten her to the punch. But this time, for the first time, the look on her face had reflected the feelings in his heart. _I can't deal with this any more._ He grasped at the bottle and shakily sloshed some of its contents into the tumbler.

_And we will only need each other, we'll bleed together,_

_Our hands would not be taught to hold another's,_

_When we were the special two._

_And we could only see each other, we'd bleed together,_

_These arms will not be taught to need another,_

'_Cause we were the special two._

_-/-/-/-/-_

A/N: Please R&R! I love it when you do... you know you want to...


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